


Lay Me Down

by hiddenlongings



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenlongings/pseuds/hiddenlongings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't wanna be here if I can't be with you tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Me Down

Clint keeps seeing flashes of blue on the edges of his vision.  It’s not real he assures himself.  His mind is his own once again.  It’s some of his subconscious fears sneaking out into the light of day.  That’s what turns the pale sunlight into a glowing blue.  Nighttime is better.  The darkness of the world, and the false glitter of lamplights makes the blue fade away.

 

After the Battle Clint had unconsciously kept scanning the crowd of SHIELD agents, looking for that particularly well fitted suit.  Looking for the flash of blue that meant Phil’s eyes and not possible mental damage.  It was missing and he felt something twist and break in his already shattered chest.  

When Fury informed him, not as a SHIELD asset but as Phil’s next of kin, Clint hadn’t even flinched.  Phil was dead and he had known that somehow.  

He had slunk into the deep darkness of early morning after he had ensured that Loki was very securely locked up.

 

Clint glanced up at the sliver of moon and the glimmer of stars that were only visible because of the electrical blackout.  He and Phil had enjoyed studying the different pieces of sky that were visible around the world.   They had seen a lot of the world with the different missions that SHIELD had assigned them and even before they had been anything close to friends they had both sat with each other and studied the different constellations.   The Milky Way was visible and the stars were as vivid as if Clint was miles away from civilization and it’s light pollution.  It was gorgeous and vivid and visceral.   It was nothing.

 

Phil’s skin had been lovely, Clint remembered as he trudged into their apartment.  He fell on the bed fully clothed, not even bothering to take off his boots. Phil’s skin, even when it was sunburned and chapped from the wind had been velvet over steel.  Clint had always enjoyed stroking his hands across broad shoulders, down the lean slope of chest to the narrow waist.  All of it lovely and all of it his.

 

As he lay curled up in the too large bed, Clint could feel the lack of weight on the right side of the bed.  Phil’s body had left an impression in the mattress and he found himself stroking that slope as though it would still lead to welcoming arms and  winding legs.

But the bed was empty and Clint felt the beginnings of a chasm in his own chest as he wound his arms around Phil’s pillow.  He drew in deep draughts of air, smelling Phil’s cologne, his shampoo and a faint waft of sweet sweat that made Clint’s eyes screw closed tightly.  He fought to hold back the tears that welled up.  He was being dragged, kicking and screaming in his mind, towards a deep dark well.  An infinite hole that promised nothing but emptiness, a hole that seemed to be growing inescapably inside of his chest.

 

A brief remembered whisper floated through Clint’s head.   “I don’t want you to cry when I’m gone.”  Phil had been running his fingers lightly through Clint’s close cropped blonde hair and he had murmured the sentence against the younger man’s temple.  Clint’s forehead furrowed as he nuzzled into Phil’s chest before he looked up at his lover.  Phil smiled down at him benevolently and Clint could see nothing but sincerity in his sky blue eyes. “What are you talking about Phil?” Phil’s smiled had been enigmatic and he had refused to answer.  Later that day Clint had been given his assignment to guard the Tesseract and his world had gone into a tailspin.

 

Clint buried his face deeper into the darkness of Phil’s pillow and wrapped his arms around it so tightly that he could feel his bones through the thick material.  Phil’s scent was still strong and he wished oh he wished so hard that he could have protected Phil.  He should have fought harder against Loki’s influence.  If he had fought harder maybe Phil would have been able to hold him tonight.  Phil could have helped him clean up the mess and Clint could have been by his side.  He didn’t want to be a person in a world that lacked Phil fucking Coulson.  He was at least less of a person because of it.

 

He told me not to cry Clint thought as he sobbed into the pillow, it just made him shake harder.  What was one more disappointment.

 

Clint could feel his exhaustion dragging him down as his body shook with the storm of his emotions.  When he finally slid into unconsciousness Clint’s body twisted and roiled still fighting.  Clint’s mind soon filled with a rippling disquiet as he slid deeper into sleep and he started to dream. There were two empty graves that were fresh enough that damp earth still surrounded them in a spray of rock and soil shrapnel.    

 

Clint’s eyes snapped open with a flash of electric blue as he abruptly awoke.  His grin was savage and wild as he inhaled and brought a fresh wave of Phil’s scent into his lungs.

** “I can lay by your side.”   
**

**Author's Note:**

> This story was based on Sam Smith's amazing song Lay Me Down. I tried to make this short story follow the flow of that song and I hope I succeeded at least a little bit. :)


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